


How to Win Valentine's DaY

by Neuropsyche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluffy?, M/M, Starker, no real plot, valentine's day theme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche
Summary: Tony wants to make Valentine's Day special for Peter
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111





	How to Win Valentine's DaY

“You’re so fucking _sexy_ …”

Peter smiled, shivering despite the hot water that was washing over his naked body. He also blushed, even though it was hardly the first time that Tony had complimented him.

“Thank you, daddy.”

Tony groaned, and his soapy hands slid along the younger man’s stomach and chest, finding his throat and wrapping fingers around it for just a moment before letting him go and kissing him, tenderly, instead.

“You’re welcome.” It was true, after all. “What do you want to do Friday?” he asked, turning Peter in his embrace so they were belly to belly under the warm spray of the shower.

Peter frowned, wondering at the change of topic when Tony was clearly aroused and eager to slide himself into him.

“What?”

The billionaire rolled his eyes, amused.

“ _Friday_?” Tony repeated. “What do you want to do?”

He was forgetting something, clearly, but he knew it wasn't his _birthday_ – and Tony’s had been several months, ago, so it wasn't _his_ , either. Their anniversary? They’d only been seeing each other for about six months – and not even exactly _that_ , so it wasn't some sappy sixth month anniversary thing, either.

Playing it cool, and pretending a nonchalance that he didn’t exactly feel, Peter shrugged, and ran his fingers along the curve of Tony’s beautifully rounded ass, enjoying the way that the older man reacted to the touch.

“What did you have in mind? Something specific?”

“You don’t know what day it is, do you?”

“Of course I do. It’s _Friday_.”

Tony smirked, and stepped back just enough to draw designs in the soap that he’d plastered on Peter’s chest and belly.

“It’s _Valentine’s Day_ , baby. I want to spoil you.”

“Oh.”

“You sound surprised,” Tony told him. “Clearly I’m not being generous enough with my baby. Not if you think I’d let something like Valentine’s Day go by without doing something special.”

Peter smiled, shyly.

“You’re amazing, daddy. Really. It’s just that my last boyfriend dumped me just before Valentine’s Day – to save himself the trouble of doing anything with me or getting me a gift, even.”

“Then he’s a stupid bastard,” Tony replied, drawing a heart around Peter’s left nipple and an arrow through it. His own body was blocking the spray from the shower, just then, so it stayed there, for the moment, at least. “I’m going to do something extra special, then,” he told the boy. “So you know how you _should_ be treated.”

Peter smiled, and sidled closer to the older man, smearing the designs when his chest brushed Tony's own.

“I know how I should be treated,” he assured him. “Or least, how I want to be treated.”

Tony felt himself growing hard, once more, as he pressed against the firm young body of his lover.

“Yeah? How?” he asked, and now it was his hands that were reaching for Peter’s ass, cupping the cheeks with his big palms and pulling him even closer. “Tell me how to treat you, baby.”

Peter’s own ardor was easily matching Tony’s. He was a lot younger, after all. He let himself go to his knees, the soap on his body making it impossible for Tony to maintain his hold on him.

“I’ll show you, daddy,” he said, reaching for Tony’s eager cock.

Tony made an approving noise, watching as Peter stroked him a few times and then opened his mouth for him.

“You do that, baby.”

He could decide what to do for Valentine’s Day, later.

There were more important things to worry about, just then.

><><><><>

“What’s this?”

Tony gave him a _how dumb can you be_ look – which he didn’t see very often.

“It’s a _rose_ , honey. You don’t know what a rose looks like?”

Peter smiled.

“I know it’s a rose. What’s it for?”

“It’s for you.”

He handed it over to prove his point, and the boy put the fragrant petals to his nose, breathing the gentle odor in.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Ready?”

“For what?”

“Dinner.”

He frowned.

“We’re not eating here?”

“Nope. I thought we’d go out.”

The boy gave him a look, now, and Tony tried to keep his expression nonchalant – which gave him away, he knew, immediately.

“What do you have up your sleeve?”

“Nothing…”

Peter didn’t look convinced.

“Tony…”

“What?” his best innocent look was wasted on the man who knew him better than anyone – despite their short length of an actual romance. “I can’t want to go out to eat?”

“On a _Tuesday_?”

“I eat on Tuesdays.”

“Yes. But you normally prefer to eat _here_ on Tuesdays – to keep from having to deal with the press in the middle of the week, as I recall you saying.”

“It’s a special Tuesday, though.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the Tuesday before Valentine’s Day and I’m going to take you someplace nice.”

Peter was dressed in slacks and a polo shirt – which was what he’d worn to class that day.

“Should I change?”

“You’re perfect,” Tony assured him. “Come on. The car is waiting.”

><><><><>

The restaurant was small, and they were immediately greeted and escorted to a private room. Very private, Tony murmured. So private, in fact, that Tony seated Peter in his chair, waited for the waitstaff to pour their drinks and leave, and then he slid to his knees beside the boy’s chair and slid his hand along Peter’s leg; first his shin and then his knee and up his thigh, until his palm slid between Peter’s thighs, which opened almost automatically.

“Tony…”

“Hmmm?” he was watching where his hand was going, and admiring the slight bulge in Peter’s slacks.

“Someone will see.”

“No, they won’t, baby,” he assured him. Not that _he_ cared at all, of course, but he knew Peter would be mortified. He was still somewhat shy of public displays of affection – and this was well beyond a simple kiss, now wasn't it? “We’re alone. They’ll ring a bell before they come.”

“Oh.”

“Should I ring a bell before you cum?” Tony asked him, sliding his finger along Peter’s zipper, and smiling at the soft groan the motion forced from his love.

“Jesus…”

“Call me whatever you want,” Tony allowed, opening Peter’s pants and fishing his now aroused cock out of them. It stood up straight and eager, waiting for the attention that was coming. “Whatever makes you blow.”

Tony lowered his head and took Peter into his mouth, smirking when he felt the boy’s fingers curl into his hair to hold him where he was.

Tuesday was definitely going to be a success, now wasn't it?

><><><><

Peter didn’t notice the car when he left the school library, but others had, and the boy noticed the crowd. He wouldn’t have stopped, but he realized that he definitely knew the man behind the wheel. Smiling at the surprise – Tony never met him at school, after all – he stopped at the driver’s side, and Tony rolled down the window.

“New car?”

“Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s flashy.”

Of course it was flashy. That really went unsaid by most people – except Peter, who always spoke what he was thinking.

“Want it?”

Peter shook his head.

“No. Can I have a ride?” Tony’s leer made Peter roll his eyes as he realized how he’d phrased it. “You know what I mean.”

He’d had plenty of ride the night before, when Tony had spent each course of their dinner doing something sexual to him. A blow job to start, caresses and mind numbing kisses during the main course, and he’d cleared the table and put Peter over it and fucked him, soundly, during dessert.

“You want a ride, little boy?” Tony asked, his brown eyes lit up with cheerfulness. “Get in.”

Peter did as he was told, and when he was buckled in, the older man handed him another rose. This one was yellow, but the tips were a brilliant blood red.

“That’s pretty,” Peter said, smiling in pleasure at the thoughtfulness. “What does it mean?”

He knew a yellow rose was supposed to signify friendship, after all.

“Love and joy.” Tony had double-checked, even when the florist had told him. Just to make sure. “Because I _do_ love you, of course, but you’re the joy in my life, too.”

Peter flushed, happily. He loved when Tony said that kind of stuff to him.

“I love you, too.”

“Good. Are you done for the day?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go home. I’m making you dinner.”

>><><>><

“Wow.”

Tony smiled, watching Peter’s reaction as they walked into the apartment, but losing the smile when the younger man turned to look at him.

“What?”

“It’s nice.”

He shrugged, affecting nonchalance, and looked around. The living room area wasn't too unchanged; same lavish furnishings done tastefully, but the dining area was decorated much like the fancy restaurant from the night before. The table was set with crystal and china and there was a candle burning in the middle of the centerpiece – which was a vase filled with those same red-tipped yellow roses.

Even more, the place smelled amazing.

“Thank you.” He took Peter’s bag and set it on the coffee table. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

He was always hungry. Tony liked that, though, because watching Peter eat was erotic.

“Come sit down.”

Tony guided Peter to the table and seated him, leaning over to drape a napkin in his lap, and brush his hand lightly along Peter’s groin as he did.

The boy smiled up at him as he did, and his eyes were hungry, despite (or because of?) the undivided attentions that he’d had the past couple of days. His libido was typical for his age group – and more because of his enhancements. Tony couldn’t match him as far as orgasms, but the quality was what counted – and Tony always did everything first class, right?

“What’s for dinner?”

“Prime rib.”

Tony was still behind Peter, though, and put his hands on his shoulders, massaging them lightly as he nuzzled his ear. Peter shivered in reaction and moved his head, slightly, to give him better access.

“Like that?”

“Yes. Don’t stop.”

“I’m not planning on it.”

“Jesus.”

Tony smiled, and slid his tongue along Peter’s earlobe as his hand went lower, once more.

_Wednesday_ was a success, too, wasn't it?

><><><><><>

“What does he have planned for today?”

Peter smiled, and shrugged.

“No clue.”

“You're loving this, though, aren’t you?”

“Of course. Being doted on like he is? I mean, he was before, but this week has been insane, Ned. I doubt he’s gotten anything done at the tower or at the compound; I’m pretty sure he spends all day thinking up the next thing that he wants to do for me.”

“And _to_ you,” Ned added, slyly, enjoying the way his friend blushed.

“Yeah. That, too.”

“I can’t wait to hear what happens on Friday,” Ned told him. “Not the _details_ ,” he added, quickly."You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I know. I-“

He was interrupted when a man that he didn’t know walked up to them. An older man, looking dignified and sharply dressed in a tailored suit that would be more commonly seen in a theater or a fancy party than in the commons of the school.

“Peter Parker?”

“I’m Peter,” the boy confirmed.

“Message for you, sir.” He bowed and handed the young man a folded piece of paper, which Peter took and read.

“What’s it say?” Ned asked, curiously.

“I’m supposed to go with this man, here, and meet Tony.”

Ned looked amused – but couldn’t help but be suspicious, also.

“Are you _sure_ it’s from Tony, and not a potential kidnapper?”

“It’s in Tony’s handwriting.”

“Call me,” Ned told him. “Not today. But later.”

“Yeah, I will.” Peter said goodbye to his friend and walked with the older man to a waiting car. A fancy black car that wasn't a limo, but might as well have been. “Where are we going?”

“All will be revealed in time,” came the cryptic response as the man held the back door open for him.

Peter got in and smiled when he found a red rose waiting for him, along with a small, fancily decorated cupcake and a carrot. Another note in Tony’s handwriting told him that he’d see him soon, to enjoy the cupcake but to bring the carrot with him. Confused, Peter nibbled the sweet and found it was delicious.

Not surprisingly.

When he was done, he put the carrot into his pocket, and watched the city around him from the tinted window of the car, but had no idea where they were heading.

><><><><

The car stopped after half an hour or so, and Peter smiled as the door opened and the same man (who had also driven him) bowed him out of the car.

“Enjoy your evening, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Tony was standing next to a carriage only about twenty feet away. It was an elegant creation with a single white horse patiently waiting and a man standing near the animal’s head, holding the horse and watching as Peter approached. Tony was dressed warmly, because of the time of year, but he was smiling in anticipation as Peter walked over,

“What’s this?”

“A UPS truck,” Tony told him, gently sarcastic. “We're going to deliver packages, tonight. Do you have your carrot?”

Peter nodded, pulling the vegetable out of his pocket with a smile.

“You missed a chance to ask if that was a carrot in my pocket or if I was just happy to see you…”

“I _know_ you’re happy to see me,” Tony told him, stepping up and kissing him, lovingly, his lips chilled enough that Peter thought that he might have been waiting for several minutes for them to arrive. The boy deepened the kiss in appreciation, and they only parted when they were both breathless. “Feed the carrot to the engine, and then we’ll go.”

Peter smiled and walked over to the horse, who turned his head, expectantly. Some of the carriage horses in the park were tired-looking animals that were probably over-worked and underfed. This one was magnificent, though, and his ears swept forward in anticipation of the treat. He was spotless and strong – and didn’t even smell like a horse, too much. Peter gave him the carrot and the driver winked at the boy as they watched it crunch it, happily.

“There are blankets to keep you warm,” he was told as the driver gathered the reins and moved to the back of the carriage. “And a thermos of coffee.”

“Thank you.”

Tony was already in the seat, and he offered Peter his hand, helping him up, even though Peter didn’t, really, need the assistance. The seat was padded and comfortable, and Tony pulled the blankets back while Peter settled beside him, and then covered both of them, warmly.

“Ready?” he asked.

Peter smiled, feeling Tony’s arms come around him. He put his own hand on the man’s thigh – extremely close to his pelvis, and nodded.

“Yes.”

At the word, the carriage driver made a noise to the horse, and they started moving. Tony tucked Peter’s head under his chin, but let him go long enough to guide Peter’s hand to his lap.

“It’s an hour ride around the park,” he murmured. “And then the car will return to take us home.”

“I can play with you until then?”

“You can play with me as much as you want,” Tony confirmed, hiding just how smug he was feeling at how happy Peter looked. “I fully intend to return the favor, later.”

Thursday was _definitely_ a success

><><><><>

A hand pressed against his lower back and soft lips against his ear woke him.

“Hey, Cinderella,” Tony whispered. “Wake up.”

Peter stretched, feeling the sheets against his bare skin and the perfect ache from his body that told him he’d been well and truly used the night before. _Perfectly_ used, as far as he was concerned. He rolled over, looking up at Tony, who was already dressed and smiling down at him. The morning sun was shining in through the window of the bedroom, and it only made him look more handsome.

“I’m _sleepy_.”

“I know.” They'd been up late; of course he was tired. “But you need to get ready. You can sleep, later, I promise.”

“Ready for what?”

“For _today_.”

Peter rolled his eyes and caught Tony’s hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against his palm.

“What are we doing, today?”

“I’m going to take you to dinner.”

The young man turned Tony’s hand, just a little, and looked at the watch on his wrist. It wasn't even close to breakfast, much less dinner.

“It’s a little early for that, isn’t it?”

“If we were eating _here_ , in New York, yes.” Tony pulled the blankets off Peter’s delicious young body, and admired the love marks that he’d sucked into the boy’s pale skin the past few days. “Come on. You need a shower and some clean clothes.”

><><><>

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“We’re going to the airport?”

“Yup.”

“Are we meeting someone coming in?”

“Nope.”

“Are you going somewhere and didn’t tell me?”

“Nope.” Tony smiled. “ _We’re_ going somewhere. Somewhere romantic.”

“For dinner?”

“I told you I was taking you to dinner, right?”

The car stopped at a small, private, terminal. A jet was waiting, with the door opened and a small rolling staircase up against it. At the bottom of the staircase a woman waited, patiently, for them. She smiled at Peter and Tony when they walked up.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.”

“Good morning. Everything ready?”

“Yes, sir. Enjoy your flight.”

Surprising Peter, she didn’t join them when they walked up the steps and got onto the small jet. A man dressed as a pilot met them at the door, and Peter could see another through the cockpit door.

“Morning, sir,” the pilot said. “Welcome aboard.”

“Thanks.”

“We’ll be ready to take off in a few minutes. Do you need help with your seatbelts?”

“We’re good,” Tony told him, turning and motioning for Peter to head for the cabin. “Thank you.”

The man vanished into the cockpit, closing the door behind him, and Tony followed Peter, who was shaking his head. There were four very plush seats and one couch along the side. Rose petals were strewn about, and there were strawberries and a bottle of Champaign on one of the tables. Tony pushed Peter down onto the sofa.

“Where are we going?’ Peter asked, feeling excited and very much doted on and loved.

“Italy. I thought about Paris, but everyone else goes there and I want tonight to be special for you.”

“Wow.”

Tony buckled himself in as they felt the engines turn on, causing a muted roar for a moment, and then fading to a low throbbing. He reached for Peter’s seatbelt, as well, and kissed the boy, softly.

“I promised you that you could sleep,” he reminded Peter. “But wait until we level out, alright? You’d tumble off the couch, otherwise.”

“I’m too excited to sleep,” Peter told him, looking around. “This is amazing, Tony.”

“Not as amazing as you are.” He closed his eyes as Peter caressed his side, the plane beginning to move, now, as it rolled away from the terminal and toward a runway. “You should get some sleep, baby,” Tony told him, his own hand sliding to find Peter’s hand, holding the boy still and keeping him from doing more than simple touches and caresses. “You’re going to have a busy night.”

“Yeah?”

“M-hmmm.”

Peter smiled, and kissed Tony before he shifted so he could simply lean against him, asking silently to be cuddled. Which was granted, immediately.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony said, sincerely. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

He smiled.

If Peter thought this was great, wait until next year when he actually had more time to plan. It was going to be amazing.

Friday was definitely a success - and Valentine's Day was a _win_.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one shot because I wanted to write today  
> If you care to join my fledgling patreon and make a donation: https://www.patreon.com/neuropsyche  
> It's new, but you can request your own stories, there, if there's something you want to buy, or you can always make requests. No purchase necessary, of course - I'll always write


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